


The Beginning and End

by The_Patchwork_Monster



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anger, Character Death, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Small Towns, Tags May Change, Time Loop, Trans Canada (Hetalia), Trans Male Character, idk it might come up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Patchwork_Monster/pseuds/The_Patchwork_Monster
Summary: Ivan and Mathew are trapped in a time loop and the thought of an eternity alone pushes the two together in something of an ironic turn of events.
Relationships: Canada/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	The Beginning and End

**Author's Note:**

> Just bare with me for this start okay? 
> 
> tiny trigger warning for death ig

A small town stood, with buildings moss covered and crooked, in a forgotten part of the world. It’s grass was far from green and all its trees were spun in pale greys and black bark. Their leaves lay in gold and bronze heaps along the frozen dirt and cracked pavement. Life was sparse there and few called it home. But, behind the white skies of a seemingly normal day, and behind it’s quiet façade, there sat a long abandoned house on the outskirts of town, where no light could reach. As the sun set low in the sky something stirred inside it’s old decrepit basement. It was in that abyss, in that all consuming void, that Mathew Williams sat, almost alone.

Deep amethyst eyes stared out from the pitch black depth that surrounded the two. Silence engulfed the room as Mathew caught sight of the faint outline of a face. Something resided in those eyes. Alas, the blonde had no time to dwell on it as the glint of metal drew his gaze. In an instant everything grew muffled and dim as his ears rang out. Tears streaked down his pale, lightly freckled face, his lavender eyes blown wide at the feeling of cool metal against his skull. He fell forward, still bound in his chair. He barely felt it at first but, as he collided with the cold concrete beneath him, everything came into sharp focus. He felt the stinging pain of his broken glasses dig into his forehead and nose. His eyes rolled closed against his will. Before he slipped fully into unconsciousness, he felt a feather light touch on his brow, sweeping his hair from his eyes. Someone muttered something, low and sweet, as his breath hitched and his blood ran cold.

Mathew awoke with a start, rubbing the back of his head. It took the man a few moments to realize he was still there, still breathing. He let his shoulders slump in quiet defeat, his skull still held the dull throb of the blow. The blonde lay back in his bed blindly grabbing for his glasses on his nightstand. The Canadian had fallen into somewhat of a routine after being stuck in the same day for almost a week. Check the date, die just a little as he marked down how many days he’d been trapped, ignore work, ignore his brother’s calls, ignore pretty much everything, and sit on the floor of his shower as he tried to figure out what to do with himself. As he sat in his false shelter, made of warm water, his mind shifted back to his last night, trying to avoid remembering the feeling of his skull shattering. With that effort, the only other thing that stuck out from the encounter were those amethyst eyes and what he refused to believe was a touch. He covered his face with his forearm as he quietly cursed as he remembered how gentle those hands were. He had to remind himself that, whoever that was, they killed him. So, he decided to forget the deep sadness, loneliness, and fear he saw in those dark eyes. Instead he focused on the anger.

As Mathew exited the shower he tried to busy himself with mundane tasks. He got dressed in his favourite red hoodie and sweatpants before he headed downstairs. The familiar creak of his old steps offered a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed. After thumbing through his cupboards and the dusty recipe books on his counters, the blonde decided to order something. In the end he went with the most expensive breakfast he knew he couldn’t afford. He leaned against his dining room table, his fingers tapped impatiently as the phone rang. He smiled bitterly as he placed an order for pick up and heard the total.

_If I ever live through this day my bank account’s gonna be fucked._

The man's lips quirked into a frown as he turned the words over in his head. ‘If’ taunted him as a reminder of just how stuck he truly was. He pushed the thoughts away and grabbed his coat and keys. In his short drive to and from the restaurant he tried to focus on the scenery but he found himself restless and anxious. The thought of the time loop and those eyes plagued his mind. The Canadian welcomed the wave of relief that hit him when he stepped through his front door. He grabbed his cutlery as he made his way to his living room and decided he was just going to wait the day out on the couch. Rest in his comfortable bed of apathy until the sun set and everything restarted, maybe tomorrow his drive to break the eternal day would reignite. He let the day drift by in a haze of ordering whatever he wanted. Yet, as much as he tried to bury himself in clever distractions those amethyst eyes haunted him. There was something so similar hidden in them, something which made them so uncanny. 

* * *

Eventually he found sleep with his last thoughts drifting to the person behind those eyes, he could only remember the vague shape of their face, and their touch. The sharp glare of what he knew was a metal bat somewhere in the darkness. When he awoke he followed the same routine as the last day, the same routine he had started since he found out he was trapped in this day. Mathew’s morning went by in a flash of unimportance and after a light breakfast the man decided he needed to get out of his half messy house. He bit anxiously at his lip as he remembered that encounter once again. He rose on wary legs, trying to convince himself that if he just avoided the downtown area he wouldn’t have a repeat encounter with that person. 

As the blonde shrugged on his jacket and pulled on his boots he decided to visit the park. The smell of damp leaves and the frost always grounded him. While the Canadian walked the streets of his town he let himself relax. The one small kindness this day brought was that he was caught in a beautiful day. He loved autumn, and sure it couldn’t hold a candle to winter, but walking on cracked pavement and dead leaves were the next best thing. The cold October wind lent itself well to his new found sense of calm as he turned into the park. He walked his favourite trail, he listened intently to the birds and the small rustles of rabbits and other small animals. Mathew walked for about an hour before he stopped at his destination. It was at the top of a stone hill where the trees parted into a small clearing. There an old wood bench stood, worn by time and weather. It overlooked the sprawling forests of red and gold tree tops which lay against the grey sky. The sun hung high above him, obscured by the clouds. The blonde took his seat, setting his small bag beside him. He put one headphone in and relinquished himself to his daydreams. He came here often, it always made him feel less alone, like maybe someone would be waiting for him on the other side of his trail.

He sat and listened to the woods with the faint hum of his music. Mathew stayed like this for hours before the sun hung low enough for the Canadian to decide to leave. The man set out the same way he came, sparing a final glance to the view, maybe one day he could see it change. The small idea filled him with some kind of hope as he trekked through the forest. The sky was a pale blue as he arrived home, and a few stars showed through the clouds. As he struggled with the old lock on his door exhaustion laced his movements. When he made it inside he stumbled up his stairs and over the small books and papers scattered across his room before he finally collapsed in his bed. He found sleep much easier than the last night, it came with a dreamless calm.

* * *

The next few days came and went in a mundane haze of small trips, though each day he slowly forgot where he had met the amethyst eyed man. The thought of that room still sent chills down his spine but he was slowly letting himself bury it, like he’d done with so many other memories. It was a few day later that he found himself weaving his way through the small alleyways and the over grown parking lots as he made his way downtown. He passed through the many small stores and colourful characters as he treated himself to whatever trinkets he felt compelled to buy. Nothing he needed, nothing he’d miss. That was until someone caught the corner of his eye. The man was impossibly tall, with messy platinum blonde hair, and a bulky grey coat which was far too long. He seemed to be impatiently waiting for something, checking the time. It puzzled Mathew, there was a sort of pull to the strange unfamiliar person. He flinched hard as the man turned and the Canadian’s gaze shot to the ground, he tried to turn away but a voice called out to him.

“Hel- you,” The words were coated in a thick Russian accent and he seemed to breathe out his last word, dumbstruck.

Suffice to say Mathew was perplexed by the man, he slowly lifted his gaze as he frantically searched his mind trying to remember if he knew any Russians. His stomach dropped as he saw amethyst eyes peering into his. The taller man clutched a bundle of flowers as he stared star struck at the Canadian. The Russian’s face contorted in worry as Mathew's paled. The blonde took a shaky step back feeling nauseous, he dropped whatever bags he had as the other approached him. His eyes grew wild as a the platinum haired man out reached a wary to him, primal fear froze him in place.

“You- you remember…” 

That was all Mathew needed to sprint, his legs had never moved quite so fast as he heard the drop of flowers and the voice of the man bellowing from behind him. 

“Wait! дерьмо” The unmistakable sound of heavy footfall against the concrete echoed along with the Canadian. 

Mathew could already hear the other fading in the distance, his heart raced as his breath grew to uneven gasps. He couldn’t breathe, his blood felt like fire in his veins. Suddenly the abyss of that room played at the edges of his vision as that phrase haunted him. 

_You remember_

He had no time to think on the Russian’s phrase as he fumbled with his keys. He collapsed through his doorway falling against the door to shut it. He brought his knees to his chest as the room seemed to loom over him like an insurmountable tower. The shadows took on different forms and silence grew into a beast of its own. Mathew felt so small in his crowded hallway. Everything was cold as the man’s voice taunted him. _He couldn’t breath._ Everything was too crowded in his modest home, nothing looked how it should. His nails dug into his arms and shoulders. His glasses slid down his nose blurring everything around him into a terrifying amalgamation of the what he once knew. His skull ached. Tears pooled in his eyes as the void of that room consumed his shaking figure. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay thank you for reading this, and I'm gonna attempt to post at least a chapter a month bc oh boy I take about a week or two to edit stuff.
> 
> Have a good day,


End file.
